Equal
by Silent Angel
Summary: One elven girl portraits the war from her home, and the losses she endures. With her brother gone on a quest, she left to join the battles forbidden to her.
1. Prologue

I am, in every way, equal to my brother.  
  
My hearing, like his, is sharper than even the most exceptional elves, and my eyesight even manages to surpass his. When we still trained in the forest before dawn came, and further still, before he left, I always had an advantage in that I could see every detail he could not.  
  
Even more, because of that training, I can use a sword as well as any of my kind, and my aim with a bow and arrow is near perfect. There are some who would even envy my skills, and so I believed I could hold my own in a battle.  
  
Admittedly, I am not the best at tracking, and will never rise up to his standards. He is the best I know, and I am content to let things rest at that. I believe he could even track a fellow elf running across a ground composed nearly entirely of stone. However, I make up for this lack of talent in my abilities in running. No other in Mirkwood is, or ever was, able to run with more speed, agility, and most importantly, stealth. In the morning before we would train, he practiced tracking me. On occasion, my weaponry training would be cancelled because it took his so long to follow my trail. Still, all of this was. no good.  
  
All of my talents and skills were nothing to the elders. The king cared little about my arguments, for, as he said, the battlefield was no place for a woman. If you were to ask him now, it should never have become my world. I disagree. Even knowing the events of that final, great battle, my heart will always be present in the wars and skirmishes of others. But I disgress. Where was I? Yes, my father's view.  
  
My father's world was a world where women and war did not mix. He believed that should war ever approach Mirkwood, as it did then, I would be sent to a safe haven, where I would never see what he called the 'horrors of war'. My protests that I could be of help in spotting enemy movements were waved away even after mentions that my speed would allow me to escape before I was ever seen. I was young, Father said. I could not be expected to remain alert enough to realize the danger I could be in until I was dead. The discussion came to an abrupt end when I proclaimed that being young would sharpen my senses and wit, and that the older one was, the less able they were for battle. I did not even bother to bring up my mastery of certain weapons. Had I done so, I would have ruined both myself and my brother. He would have to be banished and I would be eternally confined within the gates of our home. Weapons were forbidden to women, with an exception for a bow along with a few arrows. Even these were to be used for protection in the most severe circumstances. My brother was my only link to that which was forbidden, and I could not allow myself to destroy that connection.  
  
So I sat. I waited. The normal order of life continued, and my training sessions continued without notice. Then it happened. Our leaders heard of powers rising in the south. Armies of orcs and other foul creatures were on the move, occasionally passing through the borders of our forest. Of course, we sent out small bands of our best hunters. Every few weeks they would return and allow a fresh set to resume the hunt. This was my savior and destroyer. Their movements are what determined my fate.  
  
The number of orcs was increasing daily, and the usual fiends of the forest were becoming restless and steadily more aggressive. The spiders, which normally would flee from our arrows, had gone so far as to begin making attacks, one managing to wound one of our best men.  
  
My father would never be considered an idiot, but his words that day of the first attack could quite possibly be the cause of the losses we would sustain in the next two years. His opinions throughout my entire life were what caused him to lose me to the battle and war.  
  
The day of that first attack, Father held a council. Our leaders argued back and forth about trivial ideas until the hunting party returned with the news and the wounded. Then the real debate began. Some believed the best action would be to gather together and destroy any dark creatures that lingered in our forest. Others, like my father, thought to raise our defenses against these attacks. They could not imagine any waging war against us. Even those on the opposite side admitted that no one could have the power to bring us down. My brother knew better though. He tried to reason with the council. For weeks now he had been reporting the happenings to me and reading what I'd managed to research. He attempted to use this knowledge to sway Father to his side, for whichever side Father was on was sure to win. Unfortunately, he lost his temper He cried out that we would all die because of Father's pig-headedness.  
  
Needless to say, he lost the argument. The council never even heard what I'd learned. They did not realize the danger until it was too late. 


	2. Council

Ten _enquier_ after my brother's failure to prove my research to Father, we received a being that made him begin to realize how correct we were. A court was called for the one carrying the being-a court in which I, a female, could not take part in and so had to eavesdrop where I knew the walls were thin. One of the _Istari_ brought this being. His title was Gandalf the Grey; he called the creature, hideous as it was in the one glimpse I managed to steal, the rather cruel name of Gollum. (It did not take me long to discover the reason behind this name. It comes from an odd swallowing noise made in the back of one's throat. Gollum did this incessantly.) It was, he said, a product of the One Ring. This was his example, for us to keep and protect, of what that single ring, filed with malice and hate and power of the blackest kind, could do to one. As he said this, a hushed sea of voices swept around the court. Although many knew as I did what ring he spoke of, just as many did not, and while I knew the tale from my research, I was curious as to what the _Istari might know that I did not. My brother asked Father to request explanation. Here I will recount his words as clearly as my mind remembers:_

'In the Second Age, Sauron began gaining power and, alarmed at the growing power of the Númenoreans, he chose to begin building his stronghold in Mordor. Soon, the most skilled of his Elven-smiths began to create the Rings of Power. Unbeknownst to the rest of Middle-Earth, he also created his own ring, the One Ring, with this inscription:

Three rings for the Elven-kings under the sky

    Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

    One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the shadows lie.

    One Ring to rule them all, One ring to find them,

    One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Mordor where the shadows lie'

At this point, the whispers once more rose up, only to be shot down again by what I imagined to be the piercing stare of my father.

'However, Sauron's plans were discovered by Celebrimbor, who made the Three. During the war that followed, those rings were hidden, restraining Saurons power, although not as much as the world would have liked. The One Ring still offered power enough to destroy much of what was once good and pure. Of course, even his dark power could not be limitless, and during the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, Sauron was overthrown by Elendil and Gil-galad, although they died as well. The One Ring was taken by Isildur, the king of Gondor, who would have fared better if he had thrown that Ring into the depths of Mount Doom. Unfortunately, being a Man, he fell to the Ring's lure. He carried it with him, and eventually it brought about his downfall. Thus the Ring passed out of history until close to the closing of the Third Age. (This was obviously not in his presentation, as he did not know yet when the Third Age would end.) Now, events go into pure speculation, but this speculation is probably very close to the truth. A sort of river-dwelling Halfling named Sméagol is thought to have been with his friend Déagol on his birthday. Déagol found the Ring, and Sméagol murdered his friend for the Ring. He began using the Ring's unique power to make the wearer invisible in order to dicover secrets and to hurt all others. He became known as Gollum, and of course was shunned from his home and set out until he came to hide at the root of the Misty Mountains.  Then the Ring was hidden, and might have remained so forever had a close relative in species, a Hobbit come along. This Hobbit was called Bilbo Baggins.'

Now all present began to laugh, for they knew the Halfling, and of his adventures. Gandalf finished his story with many more interruptions, covering the tale of how Baggins found the Ring and how Gollum had revealed Hobbits to the Dark Lord.

Now even my father had a surprise for me. It seemed he had long ago sent out aids to pursue Gollum for Gandalf, although at the time he knew not what the corrupted Halfling's importance was. Being told that, I was not astonished to find Father agreeing to hold Gollum in the prisons, safely out of the way of curious eyes. All peoples with us in court that day swore to reveal none of the words that had been spoken that day to anyone, even those closest to them. I was not under this oath for obvious reasons.

Long after the council was ended my mind continued to return to what Gandalf had said. The words on the rind rang through my mind until I thought I had gone mad, but still they did not stop until I came upon them once more during the research I had thrust myself into. They were different, yet in my limited understanding of the Black Language, the same. I dared not read them aloud, yet the sound in my mind rolled out so I feared my Father would hear and know what I was doing. 

_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul_

Even so, the language fascinated me. I searched it out in books and learned it. I needed to hear it. I began to fear others, allowing myself to be consumed by the language. My brother worried, but when he asked I would tell him it was nothing, just a troublesome part of my research. In this way I learned the language all foul and dark creatures must know, and hated myself for the feelings the consumption had left me longing for when my study was through. It was because of this that I began to train with my brother even more rigorously, as I needed something to put my energies into. Still, I always returned to my room filled with an energy that would not leave. Even now I don't believe I ever overcame that particular addiction, and am glad I never thought to take up the dark magicks during those times. 

Throughout all this my life did not alter greatly until one day. One day was the one that finally pushed the chain of events over the top along with my brother, father, kingdom, and me. Gollum escaped.


	3. Escape

Author's Note: This story will most likely have another chapter posted at least once a week, and maybe more as I finish other projects for school. If I start to drag in my updates, or if the story itself isn't as good as you'd like, review and tell me. I'll try to adjust. *bows* After all, I am the lowly artist. My work is made to serve. *smirk*

All elvish words will be defined at the end in a sort of appendix where I will list all and any things I did not have time to address in the story itself. For faster reference, the words are in Appendixes B and C, I believe.

On with the story:

I can remember clearly what happened the day of Gollum's escape. It was during _yávië_, or more specifically, _Úrimë_. Father had finally given orders to increase the security around the gates, should some attack come. I, in turn, was to remain inside. There was no way for me to continue training in the mornings, nor was there any escape from the rest of my people during the day. I was therefore forced to wander about, listening to the talk of others. It was in this way that news of Gollum's escape first reached me. I was standing outside the King's chamber when there came a cry of outrage from within. At first I had had to smother a chuckle, pitying the poor elf at the receiving end of my father's infamous rage. Next came an inaudible reply, instantly smothered by another curse and the sound of something breaking. I hoped it wasn't anything he would miss later, or he would never calm down. Then, feeling my insatiable curiosity welling up, I crept as close to the door as I dared and listened. 

Father ordered a search be sent out. The other, still too quiet to hear, must have asked a question because my father's voice rose once more, causing me to jump back and press myself against the wall.

'_Because if we do not find that creature he could aid Sauron in more ways then he already has. I will not be responsible for the death of millions_.'

I fled.

For the rest of the day I was constantly told I was 'in the way'. Even my own brother could not be bothered with my questions, so I continued to eavesdrop on the unwary members of the council. Many things were still a mystery, even after hearing the words repeated by others. Father spoke of an attack, but I was at a loss as to why this would have any relation. Perhaps something more serious had happened in the time I had been feeding my craving for the Dark Language. The longing that had consumed me earlier had returned, but the hunger was now for knowledge of what was happening. I saw hunters that I'd assumed to be out fighting against orcs bustling around, preparing to track down the creature that I'd by now assumed to be Gollum, although the name was never mentioned. 

At mid-day the hunters began assembling outside, my brother with them. I watched, fascinated as they were given orders to follow and capture the corrupted being. This was my first taste of anything even related to battle, although there was to be no real fighting. As the hunters left with my brother through the gates I found Father, who was watching with a grim look. Finally he turned to me. Without even I word he shook his head and left, leaving me to beg that he allow me to accompany them. His response was to post a guard outside my room. 

I know not how long I was in my 'prison', but when I next was left unwatched, it was the night the first sets of hunters returned. I waited until after I was sure the guard was gone, then slunk away using all my skills to hide from prying eyes. Luckily, none took interest in my passing, choosing to instead watch and gossip about the hunters. It was from these gossipers that I learned of the failure to find Gollum, and this information which hardened my resolve to escape. I had not been idle in the time spent in my room. A plan had arranged itself in my mind to leave as Gollum had, and to attempt to find a way into the battles I wanted so much to be a part of. With this plan in mind I crept into the weapons' house and stole a sword with Dwarfish runes intertwined with our own Elvish craftsmanship and writings. Dwarves had always been a point of interest for me, and I cherished the few weapons we kept that had mementos from their race. Acknowledging the need for something easier to handle, I also pulled a small bow down, and the lightest quiver to hold my arrows. I then grabbed a dagger and another sword. Regrettably, the second sword ended up back where it lay. As it was I would tire much more quickly than I would have preferred, but a small amount of pride made me keep the rest of my weapons, insistent that I could handle it. With this protection covering me, I stole away into dark to where hunters were still passing in and out, seeking others that had gotten confused in the dark, as it is so easy to do if your eyesight is not quite good enough. 

It was no problem for me to make my way outside. Although there were many around the gate, their sight was not as developed as mine, and although they realized I was there, they were not familiar enough with me to recognize my form in the night where only a subtle half-moon was able to shine from the horizon. Thus I managed my way into the forest without any confrontations from the distracted hunters. Only a few hundred meters in I stopped and hid myself among the branches of the closest few trees. I was confident that my disappearance would not be discovered until the next morning, if even then. Secure in that knowledge, I allowed myself to sleep in the quiet of Mirkwood.

The next morning brought an unpleasant realization: I would have to be careful to not fall into too deep a sleep. I was now wrapped in spider's silk, although luckily they had not had time to begin feasting, nor had they managed to completely bind me. Keeping watch on the surrounding forest, I wriggled my dagger out of my belt and sliced the strings holding me. Looking down I learned what had happened to my captor. The hunters obviously had seen it and it, thinking to find more food, had gone after them. It was now dead at the base of a tree a few yards off. Unconsciously I shivered, thinking for the first time that my father might have been right; I was not prepared to deal with the hazards of the forest. These fears were discarded though when I caught sight of a horse being ridden west. I quickly pushed the thought of my waking situation and gave chase. The rider however, was able to elude me for several hours until finally the trees broke into a clearing.  I remember I tripped when I saw their face, however briefly it was. My brother was riding west, and that could only mean Father had decided Gollum posed enough threat that he would send his son to Rivendell for help. I didn't bother to pull myself back to the trees until evening. My first night truly away from home was spent in despair. My brother had left, and I in my foolishness had chosen that day to be gone so he could not say farewell.

I remember that night. I remember that night was full of tears. 


	4. Hidden

*shrugs* A sorta short chapter, but not too bad. The next one should be longer. If not… *grin* flame me. That's right! Send a totally senseless flame to innocent me. *smirk* I love replying to flames but no one wants to send them… *sniff sniff* *tear*

In anycase, enjoy! 

Chapter Three/Twenty: Hidden

Morning came without further incident, but I was beyond caring. My first thought when I lifted my head to check my surroundings was that I would return home. I would pretend I had fallen asleep in some odd corner and woken disoriented. As I mentioned before, my Father was not, is not, a fool, but at that point in my life I believed he would never know the difference. To tell the truth, I was the fool.

Believing I would not yet be missed, I began my journey home to the caves. The guilt wracked path back was indefinitely longer than the swift sprint driven by my curiosity there, and so it was well into the night before I neared the entrance. I dropped from my place in the trees, which even now I think I will run in always, and stealthily approached the gate, about to deploy the same trick of hiding among others that I'd used to get out. Unfortunately, my idea was not as flawless as I'd originally believed. 

The plan had been to sneak in with the still returning hunters, unnoticed due to the chaos their arrival would bring for as long as it took for all to return. I had not in my planning thought out what I would do if they were no longer returning, but leaving, this time hunting for me. That scene was too preposterous for my mind to even consider back then, however, it is exactly what was presented to me upon my return. The gates were wide open, with guards questioning all returning hunters. As they returned they were ordered into one of three lines. I struggled to hide myself as I drew closer, trying to hear what was said. What whispers I did manage to understand made my return impossible. I had been discovered to be missing yesterday evening when Father sent the guard in to check on me. Search parties had then been sent through the tunnels early that morning, before I had even begun my journey home. It did not take much to realize what the hunting party was for, and though I would rather not admit it, it was because of this that I finally left. If I were to be discovered, my father's rage would be more horrible than anything else. I would never be allowed to leave my rooms. Life would be… unbearable. With these thoughts running through my mind, I did the only thing my panicked state would allow; I ran. 

I could say that I was scared. I could even say I was confused. Unfortunately, these are nothing but excuses for what happened next. I managed to run straight into a tree. Oh yes, I can hear you laughing now, brother. The princess of Mirkwood, infamous for her stealth, grace, and speed, ran into the very same tree she had been leaning back on. Go on and enjoy yourself, because this is, after all, a crucial point in the story. As you might guess, anyone, even an elf, crashing into something solid is no silent matter, and then it only makes sense that the hunters, already on alert, would hear it and come running. This, of course, is exactly what happened. I ran… again.

By now several elves had caught up to me and could see who I was. One of the hunters shot an arrow at me and shouting started up a few feet behind me. If I had thought about it at the time, I suppose I would have realized that the shouting was meant for the fool shooting at me, but at the time I wasn't thinking so this only urged me to begin sprinting. In a minute only the very fastest hunters remained near me; twenty seconds after that I leapt onto one of the lower branches in the forest and steadily made my way up to begin running back, slightly to the left to avoid running into the caves. I had, in my few minutes' flight, decided to follow my brother. I was not sure of the way, but believed I could easily figure out the path for myself.

It was dawn when I finally slowed enough to see my surroundings. I glanced around, confused. I had never seen this part of the wood before. Even in the early morning light, the forest was depressed. The very air smelled ugly, like things lived here that I should not have intruded on. So intent was I in my assessment of my new predicament, I almost missed the clicking behind me. I whipped around. A spider was creeping towards me. When it realized I'd noticed it, it hurried forward, intent on making its kill. Now, brother, I think you'll be proud of me. Instead of running once more, I grabbed me bow and began shooting. It was still a few meters away when I gave that up and grabbed the rune inscribed sword. Thanks to you, I managed to kill it without more that a few scratches. With that accomplished I continued running in what I hoped was the same direction as before. You're smiling, aren't you? I was too. I really thought I was something special. I thought I would fight with you in whatever Father had sent you away for. I still think that. I'll always be there to give you the support you need. You need to hear that and I think… I think I do too.


	5. Alone

            Still in high spirits after my earlier success, I traveled on for several _enquier_ and killed a few more spiders. I suppose I was beginning to think myself invincible. I was too cocky, an idiot's mistake, but as I still have not changed, I do not regret that. It was during early morning on the first _ré_ of the third _enquië__ however, that I finally got my first taste of what war would be like. I had taken to running everywhere, because in the blackness, some distant part of my mind feared I would fall and be unable to return to safety. I told myself this was nonsense, but nonetheless, I ran. Because of this, I did not notice the monstrosities until I was almost above them. When I finally did catch sight of the orcs, I stopped in surprise. The edge of the forest would have to be near for them to have set up camp. Still, although I searched for it, I could find no exit to the woods nearby. Had our hunters given up? I was determined to discover whether this was true, and so set up my own resting place in a nearby tree where I could easily keep track of the creatures' movement. _

            The orcs did nothing. Naturally they ate and drank. They yelled, sometimes in the Westron tongue, other times in that foul language that captivated me so much. They even fought, but only each other and any of the creatures in our woods that dared approach within the orcs' vision. What they did not do was move. They did not pack up and hurry out of Mirkwoood. They did not move their camp around to prevent detection. Most of all, they were never chased out by an elvish hunting party. I longed for something, anything to happen. I needed any sign, any at all, that the King of Mirkwood had not forsaken his realm.

            The sign did not arrive. I began leaving the small army in search of others of my kind, or even just an exit from this unholy gloom. Slowly my trips became longer until I was sometimes gone until I was sure the orcs would have left if only in need of new scenery in what must be their old age. I regret to say I lost all sense of time and what was only a few more _enquier__ could have lasted all the way into _Coirë___. Needless to say, I became a bit careless. The orcs never seemed to hear anything short of their shouted orders, and so I allowed myself to make more noise than necessary._

            Even with my dashing about above their heads, the orcs never once noticed me. You would have thought they would at least have the sense to look up occasionally, but they seemed to either be too stupid to do so. Or it could be that they were simply not worried. With all that happened afterwards, that is most likely explanation for their behavior. Back then, however, the thought was barely allowed to appear before it was shoved off to the less frequented reaches of my mind.

            I still am not sure how long I had been waiting when the idea first took me, although I remember the moment clearly. It was night-the moon was unusually bright for the crescent stage-and I was awake far longer than I normally would be. I recall my thoughts slowly turning towards the monsters below me. I ridiculed them in my mind. I tore at their skills of observation (or rather, their lack of), and in short allowed each thought I had entertained recently to come out and expound upon itself with ideas and thoughts that became more and more wild as the night progressed. By morning I was certain that those beings that were currently quite literally below me were so in a more figurative way as well. 

            That led to the thought that my body had been waiting for so anxiously as I sat there watching the dawn. If these… _beasts were truly so far below my level of being, why couldn't I take care of the small army below? My mind rejected the answer instantly. I would not, _could_ not accept that I was wrong-that these orcs whose lack of surveillance had allowed me to live almost on top of them were actually better than me. But why hadn't I defeated them already, if this was so? my mind wondered, the sunrise now entirely forgotten. Another part of me fought viciously against this question and buried it before it could lead to more. Still, the next morning found me tumbling thoughts about. Why hadn't I defeated them? They were only orcs, after all. This question pestered me unrelentingly until finally something occurred that proved, in my mind at least, that I was being quite stupid worrying about whether or not I could defeat the orcs. I was spotted._

            When one of the orcs finally noticed me dashing along in the trees, I expected there to be some shouting at least. The truth was though, I had no idea I was being watched until the shouting died away to whispers. It was then that I finally stopped, crouching down instinctively. Glancing around the branches hiding me, I could see the several orcs attempting to penetrate the wood with the strength of their gaze. Several minutes went by before one of their leaders finally noticed this. He shouted at them, asking what they were looking at. Another, the one who first spotted me I suppose, called back that he didn't know. This was obviously not the report the commander had been searching for, for he was immediately standing next to the soldier, staring at the tree with the others. After another long moment he snarled and stalked off. Immediately the others began shouting and eating once more, leaving me to hurry back in safety.

            Now, for anyone who had ever been at war, and had been forced to be inserted into the midst of an army of orcs, it would have been obvious what had happened. However, my shocked and disbelieving mind could only numbly review the encounter and the way the orcs had seen me, watched me dart about above them, and still took no notice of me. Soon, as it always did, the question returned to me, and this time I had an answer. I had not extracted these creatures from my home earlier because I was about to. I did not even bother to prepare myself any more than to arm myself with the sword. Convinced that I could not loose, I jumped down, rejoicing that I could finally do something… and found myself surrounded by soldiers holding the orcish weapons I had only seen in books.


End file.
